Page 53 of Sinful Lord

My pants tighten.

She was using it.

Fuck.

A warm wave of pride pounds through my chest—that is, until my frenzied gaze lifts and I see the laptop screen on the bed behind her.

Then it all comes crashing down.

It’s the sex tape.

She’s seen it.

“You…” Melina rasps, fear filling her tiny voice.

I’m not sure how to respond.

“Are… are you alright?” I ask. “I heard you…”

I stop myself before I can finish. Sure, just before I knocked on her door, I heard her whimper, but now it’s clear that it wasn’t caused by pain or fear—even if I swore I heard a hint of both.

It was from arousal.

Maybe this isn’t so bad, after all…

“Heard me what?” Melina spits, immediately becoming defensive. Before that fire can grow any wilder, though, she seems to realize just how exposed she is in her little lace nightgown.

All the fight drains from her face as she hugs her chest and crosses her thighs.

“I thought I heard you cry out,” I explain, my open lips slowly closing. “I thought you were in trouble.”

But she’s not in trouble. At least, not the kind I thought she was in.

This is a whole new degree of sinful.

Shit.

Has my naughty little runaway been masturbating to my sex tape?

The thought is so salacious that I can feel my face contort into a confused, yet aroused, smirk. I knew Melina was slowly shedding her innocence. But this is something else.

“… You need to leave,” she quietly quivers.

That wipes the smile from my face.

“I’m not here to—“

Before I can step forward, I’m stopped in my tracks. But it’s not because of the sex tape paused on Melina’s laptop screen, or the cast replica of my cock that has finally stopped spinning at her feet.

It’s the painting.

The easel I got her stands just behind the chaotic scene. Untouched by the madness I’ve just dragged in with me.

“Is… is that me?” I ask, immediately feeling a connection to the piece.

Melina’s wide eyes snap to the spotted canvas.

“I…” she starts, before trailing off. “It’s not done…”